


A State of Mind

by peonies_after_dark (Ismeneee)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Ar-Pharazon being a little shit, M/M, Oral Sex, sexually frustrated Mairon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 09:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21491920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ismeneee/pseuds/peonies_after_dark
Summary: Ar-Pharazôn calls Tar-Mairon to his chambers once again...This isn't simply a smut fic I wrote because I felt like it. While yes, the sex does happen, this is more focused on their thoughts through it, and Mairon's experience based off his time with Melkor (Angbang is treated as canon), how he feels about the king, and exploring what their dynamic is like together.But yes, to answer your question, it is a smut fic. Enjoy.
Relationships: Ar-Pharazôn/Sauron | Mairon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	A State of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea while in a car on the way to take a math exam, and it wouldn't leave my head. I was originally going to make a Tumblr text post discussing it all, when I thought, why not make it in a fic? So, anyway, here it is. My interpretation of what Mairon's and Ar-Pharazôn's relationship is like.

Mairon entered the king’s chambers as requested, completely unsurprised to find him scantily clad in merely a gold robe and reclined against the cushions of his bed with a glass of wine in hand.

He’d become used to this; as he whispered sweet nothings into His Majesty’s ear and kept him occupied in the bedroom, he was able to get away with much among the people – particularly with his plan of teaching them of his dead Master. _Melkor_, he thought with a pang, remembering him and their days in Angband. Those memories – those sweet, fleeting glimpses into the past, where he was still beside the Vala – were all that remained of his love, and it hurt every time he remembered. The taste of his tears was still fresh in his mind, the salty bitterness that laced his tongue for days on end. Sometimes it was bearable – sometimes, he could remember with pride their conquests, their battles together – but other times, it hit so much harder, so much more violently against his heart.

He locked the ornate doors behind him, shaking off his emptiness, and turned back towards the king with a low, elaborate bow. “Your Majesty, you called?”

Ar-Pharazôn raised the glass to his lips, unhurried, drinking the red liquid as his eyes drank in the sight of the Maia. _His_ Maia. He could never tire of seeing Tar-Mairon in his chambers, coming and going at his command, reduced to another one of his possessions. It filled him with a sense of security about his position, a sense of _power_ – after all, not every king could claim to rule over one of Eru Ilúvatar’s children with such totality. His desirous gaze raked up and down Mairon’s fair form as he finally set down the glass and motioned for the Maia to come closer with a single finger.

Mairon obeyed, quelling the protests issued by his sense of pride, controlling himself with unparalleled skill. He approached the bed, but remained standing – he wasn’t about to go further unless explicitly told to do so. “Your Majesty?” The king got up and slowly came closer to him, the slight swing of his hips and half-lidded gaze making his intentions quite clear. To anyone else, he might have been irresistible – half-naked, the candlelight dancing over his glistening body, spoiled and softened with expensive oils and perfumes – but Mairon was not impressed. He liked it otherwise (however, he dared not say so). Dark hair and hard skin flashed in his mind, followed by a pair of eyes so deep the abyss of them threatened to swallow him whole. It lasted only an instant. His lover here was not tall, all-powerful, or impossibly strong; he was bronze, mortal and so very _fragile._

“You made me wait,” Ar-Pharazôn almost whined, happy for the delay despite his words. _Patience makes the reward so much sweeter._

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but as you well know –”

“Shhhh…” The king interrupted, placing a finger on the Maia’s mouth to emphasize his point. He lazily ran it over his bottom lip after a moment, staring intently at how it moved under his touch. “That was awfully rude of you.” He circled round Mairon to his back, his finger snaking down the Maia’s neck to his hair and down his braid, where he unclasped the gold band holding it in place, letting it fall on the floor. He ran his fingers through the molten strands, undoing it to cascade in loose waves down his back before pushing it all over one of his shoulders to reach the clasps holding his tunic together.

Mairon stood motionless, letting the king undress him. “I have already apologized.” He shivered when Ar-Pharazôn’s fingertips ghosted over his now-bare back down to his hips to remove his leggings. Soon, he would have to act. He would have to pretend, to give in to the king’s wishes, to pleasure him while all the while wishing it was another. But this was nothing new; he could play this role magnificently, as he’d done many times before.

Ar-Pharazôn turned him back around and stepped away, relishing the sight of him as he let his own robe fall to the floor. _He truly is The Admirable_. The Maia seemed to glow from within, as if some fire burned inside him, shining out through his seemingly unguarded expression and every curve of his chiseled body. And to think that someone this powerful, something this great, stood bare before him at his command…he smirked, approaching once more to push the Maia to his knees in front of him. “You ought to make it up to me then, don’t you agree?’ A gentle, guiding hand placed itself on the nape of his neck and led closer to his own body, telling Mairon what to do.

Mairon smiled convincingly, his voice dropping to a tone barely above a whisper. “Of course – whatever you desire.” He fervently set to work pleasuring the king, his arms sliding up and around his hips and back for leverage. Ar-Pharazôn’s fingers tangled themselves in his red hair, guiding him to a steady pace while a symphony of indecent sounds escaped them both.

_He’s good…he’s so good,_ the king thought over and over, like many times before. Mairon truly was a natural; Ar-Pharazôn’s mind fogged up with the ripples of pleasure coursing through him in waves in time with the motions of Mairon’s head. All too soon he reached his release, groaning loudly as he did.

It was all Mairon could do to not stifle a groan of his own – not from pleasure. _So soon?_ He nearly laughed; it never failed to surprise him how little endurance the king had. _At least, compared to myself and Melkor._ He swallowed and stood up to kiss him with an open mouth, knowing what he liked. The two tangled together in a mess of lips, limbs, and hair, falling backwards onto the bed with a small huff. He had to admit, the king was a good kisser; of all their exploits, this was his favorite, because it was only action that remotely satisfied him in itself.

He pushed Ar-Pharazôn back and off of him, crawling backwards to tease him. Seductively, he lowered himself back onto the bed, sinking into the mattress, breathing heavily, his hair in a complete state of disarray against the gold sheets. His gaze rested lazily on the king’s eyes, blinking slowly but aflame with desire. He spread his legs apart slowly, invitingly. “What are you waiting for?”

Ar-Pharazôn made a noise between a chuckle and a growl. “I was…_distracted._ Really, I should be teasing you, teaching you the same patience you forced me to have today while waiting for you. You are certainly very lucky I am so merciful…” He gripped the Maia’s hips for leverage and wasted no time entering him.

_Of course, it is most certainly not like you don’t simply tease me while you get off on your own,_ he thought with bitterness. He took the king without complaint – and in truth it did feel good – but it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him. However, he kept up appearances. A string of praises leapt from his lips to reach Ar-Pharazôn’s ears, his name sung over and over as if he was only thing Mairon was thinking of in the moment, lost in the pleasure he gave him.

This couldn’t be further from the truth, but it worked.

Ar-Pharazôn grinned, overwhelmed by his senses, only a moment away from releasing for the second time that evening. He noticed the Maia hadn’t released at all, but he didn’t particularly care at the moment. He cried out his name, burying himself for a minute to catch his breath before finally pulling out.

Mairon nearly whined at the loss of contact, frustrated beyond measure. _It seems that once again I’ll have to finish his work on my own. _He said none of this, instead pressing one last lingering kiss to Ar-Pharazôn’s lips before redressing himself. “Is that all, Your Majesty?”

Ar-Pharazôn sat back down on his bed, still breathing heavily. “You have not climaxed, again. I’m beginning to notice a pattern…am I not enough to satisfy you?”

_No. No, you’re not._ “Not at all,” he assured him behind a forced smile. “Your Majesty is most well-endowed; if anything, it is my own fault, not yours.”

The king returned his smile with a smirk. “If you insist. Were you simply not in the mood before I called?”

“No, I admit, I was not.”

“Perhaps that is why then. In that case, until tomorrow. And, Tar-Mairon –”

“Yes?”

He raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Do try to be in the mood next time. Despite your words, I admit I am getting the impression you don’t enjoy our times together nearly as much as I do.”

Mairon bowed low with the same forced respect and congeniality as his smile. “I assure you, that is not the case. Until tomorrow.”

The moment he left the room and shut the doors behind him, he growled, all the niceness of his demeanor gone into anguish, frustration, and pining once more after his one true Lord. _I swear to you, Ar-Pharazôn, one day _you_ shall be the one at _my_ command, not the other way around._

His mind raced with his plans, trying to distract himself from his once again unfulfilled need. _One day…one day………but until then, patience._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm curious, what do y'all think? Based off their characters, is there anything you agree with/disagree with?
> 
> (Also, if there are any typos, let me know. I did very little to no editing.)


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